


Princely Demands

by Otoshigo



Series: USUK - Oneshots [2]
Category: Dragon Ball, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, fandom mashup, kiku and bulma would be best buds, saiyajin!america, saiyajinprince!england
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otoshigo/pseuds/Otoshigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred can't really explain why, but the saiyajin prince just seems to get more fascinating with time. Saiyajin!Alfred and PrinceSaiyajin!Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Princely Demands

_"Landing in six, Your Highness."_

The familiar voice came as a crackle over the intercom, a minute noise over the telltale sound of the pod beginning to descend into a planet's atmosphere.  The interior of the chryo-pod was heating up quickly, not enough to be damaging but stifling nonetheless.  It was always uncomfortable, going from comatose freezing temperatures to only awaken groggy and sweating right as one was about to reach their destination.  Two bleary green eyes looked out of the window ahead of them, to the green and blue planet now overwhelming their sight.  It was a puny thing, the gravity a tenth of that of his own beautiful lost world, the dominant species rather pathetic and underwhelming.

Prince Arthur barely gave it any consideration as they fast approached, closing his eyes as he waited for impact.  This sort of planet was beneath the notice of the Planet Trade Organization, too small to be of much trade value.  Too small for a vanguard such as himself and his Second.  In fact an infant of their species was sent instead for the purpose of eventual annihilation.

Clearly, this did not happen.

Arthur still did not have all the details, receiving only scant reports from Matthew before he expired.  Only that his infant brother, Alfred, had... not quite turned out as he expected.  Normally, the prince would not bother with fallen comrades (subjects more like, even as scant as they were).  Who cared if some lowly peasant was murdered by his lowly brother?

However, another report piqued his interest instead.  Enough for him to abandon his mission, for him to go rogue from his Overlord's army, for him to risk  everything .

Magic.

True, Arthur probably took more stock in it than was practical and reasonable, judging from his Second's pained and disdainful look when he announced that they were leaving for Earth.  Who knew if the reports were true.  Perhaps it was just fabricated legend, local folklore.  Yet Matthew had believed it and that meant  _something_ .

It had to.  It was his last chance to preserve what little legacy was left of his lost planet, his extinct people.  It was his only chance to take revenge on that which had destroyed them all, which had subjected him to suffering and slavery.

It would be his mandate to take his rightful place as the true ruler of the Cosmos.

A cruel smirk twisted upon his lips, his hunger and ambition making his pulse race even faster than bathing in the blood of his enemies.  His tail slinked out, lashing and restless.  Eager.  

Soon.  Oh soon, immortality and empire would be his for the taking.

\-----

_Years later..._

The fir trees rustled as a young figure flitted through them like a monkey dashing through the brushes.  Alfred snickered briefly at the thought, but not too loudly.  He was here to see Arthur today after all - not that the prince knew it.  He stopped near the top of a fir, his bright blue eyes watching out for signs of the older saiyajin.  He did usually train out here, if the craters 

were anything to go by.  His bare toes curled around the branch, his hand holding onto the trunk for support as he leaned out of the fir branches.  He'd dressed comfortably today, in jeans, t-shirt and his favorite leather bomber jacket.  Arthur wouldn’t be at all impressed, but Alfred wasn’t planning on being seen.

Something flitted in his field of vision and his head snapped down to see a familiar shape flying across the ground.  Something bright flashed in his hands - a sword.  Ah, so he was on that now, was he?  For what Arthur lacked in the sheer brute strength that Alfred possessed, he had such a clever, clever mind and was always working to master whatever different forms of martial arts he encountered.  Alfred was careful not to move, content to merely watch the lithe prince as he trained.  It was just a joy to watch him - secretly.  Alfred’s blood sang, distant echoes of his heritage - of competition and challenge - as Arthur was really the only consistent rival he’d ever had.  A sharp cry echoed in the small valley, as Arthur brought his sword down on its final destination, cleanly slicing a perfect rift into the very mountainside as the earth groaned and cracked.  Alfred let out a low whistle.  Ki blade.  Wow.

Smiling, he watched Arthur slow and warm down, admired how Arthur looked impeccable even after his brutal workout.  Even after all his years on Earth, the proud prince still clung to his heritage, always wearing navy blue military uniforms and pristine white and gold armour.  Arthur slid his sword back into its sheath at his hip and he stooped to take a long pull of water from his canteen.  Alfred wished he’d gotten to see more, to be honest, but it wasn’t like he’d been planning on getting kicked out of Capsule Corps for the day either.  Buruma and Kiku got a bit tetchy when he accidently broke something, even if he was sincerely interested in all the gizmos.

Alfred leaned closer, trying to get a better look.  He misjudged his step, the branch snapping loudly underneath his weight.  He didn’t yelp, but it only took that snap to draw the prince’s attention.  Arthur’s eyes shot up to his tree, just before Alfred put two fingers to his brow and then disappeared from sight.

\----

Alfred should’ve known it would come and bite him in the ass.  To his credit, he at least knew why Arthur suddenly appeared on his doorstep on the Capsule Corps campus a day later, though he pulled on his most winning grin upon sight of the irritated prince.  Arthur wasn’t here in his armour, just a beautiful navy coat and trousers and white gloves.  If he was looking for a fight, he’d have donned it.  Somehow that both relieved and disappointed Alfred.  “Heya Artie!” he chirped, “What are you doing here?”

“You know very well why I’m here,” Arthur growled, the sound like the ripple from a lion’s throat.  “And do not call me Artie!  It is Prince Arthur to you!”  He shoved Alfred hard with both hands.  A regular human couldn’t have made him budge, but Arthur caught him by surprise and he took a couple steps back.  That weird blood thrilling was back, Alfred’s heart speeding up as he was challenged.  He tried to make himself calm down, but Arthur had  such  an effect on him.

“You’re like prince of one person, I don’t think that counts,” Alfred said, rolling his eyes as he fell into old patterns.  Hopefully, he’d just piss off Arthur enough that the prince would up and leave in a huff without asking any questions.  “If you wanted a willing subject, maybe you shouldn't have executed Ivan when you got here.”

Not that he wanted another bloodthirsty psychopath around.  Arthur was enough, though thankfully, Arthur had turned his focus from genocide to the single minded purpose of defeating Alfred in battle.

Arthur folded his arms, his slender tail uncurled from his waist and lashed the air with all of the prince’s irritation.  Alfred couldn’t help but be transfixed by it, suddenly - strangely - wishing he had his own tail back.  What would it be like if they touched?  So hypnotized, he almost didn’t hear what Arthur said next.

“I saw you.  I know you’ve been watching,” Arthur snapped, not rising to Alfred’s goading.  “How long has that been going on?  Is that how you always defeat me, by spying on me as I trained?!”

Alfred’s heart sunk.  Oh no.  Was that what he thought?  “No, of course not!  I wasn’t trying to look for an edge or anything!” he cried out.  “I was just- You were-”  He fumbled here, because honestly he didn’t know himself why he liked to watch Arthur so much.  And he was pretty sure that telling Arthur that watching him made his blood race would just get him a punch to the face.  “I-I was just wondering if, um, we might spar together... sometime?”

The look of utter incredulity on Arthur’s face was almost worth it.  If only he hadn’t said the very last thing he actually wanted to do.  It was bad enough with Arthur challenging him so close verbally.  He could only imagine his fascination getting worse with prolonged physical contact.  Ugh, no.  He didn’t need to turn into Arthur.  That man was obsessed enough for the both of them.

Thankfully, the idea seemed repulsive to the prince as well.  “No.  You can forget it,” Arthur replied haughtily.  At least it sounded like the prince believed him.  “I wouldn’t spar with you even if you got on your hands and knees to grovel before me and begged for that favour.”

Ouch.

Arthur pointed a finger at Alfred’s face, nearly poking him in the eye.  “You will cease spying on me immediately.  Believe me, I’ll find out if you do so again.  The next time you see me, it will be when I challenge you and defeat you in battle.”  With that, he spun around, his coat tails flaring with the motion, and stormed away.

Alfred release a long breath.  As far as encounters with the prince went, this really wasn't all that bad.  However, he was still feeling a bit shaky.  He shook his head and decided that he might try to find Kiku and keep him company.  Maybe playing around with some gizmos would take his mind off of things.

\----

Kiku was in his personal lab at Capsule Corps, when he heard the familiar heavy footsteps of his childhood friend approach.  Quickly, he put away his more delicate and sensitive experiment and pulled out a contraption that was a bit more hardy.  Just in time, as Alfred popped his head into the door and grinned at him.  "Is that a new toy?" he asked bouncing over to meet his friend (and poke at his invention).

"Why was Arthur-san here?" Kiku asked instead.  Not that he intended to spy, but it was difficult not to notice when Arthur’s angry aura tended to upset all his experiments.

"Ahahah, you saw that huh?" Alfred said with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.  "Just throwing his nonexistent weight about.  You know how he is."

Kiku gave him an unreadable expression.  “Was he issuing you another challenge?” he asked calmly.

“N-no, of course not!” Alfred said, waving his hands as if to dissipate the idea.  “He hasn’t done that in ages.  We were just-  All I did was ask him if he wanted to spar.”

Another look.  “Arthur-san came here.  So that you could ask him to spar.”

“Y-yes?” Alfred said, pulling up another grin.

“You are not a very good liar, Alfred-san,” Kiku said softly.  Alfred pouted childishly.  It was difficult for Alfred not to, Kiku noted.  Physically, Alfred had barely aged at all past the age of nineteen, though he was much older than that.  As years passed, it was getting obvious that Alfred was not as his friends were, even as human as he looked.  No, he was like Arthur, who only looked in his early twenties and no one could even guess how old he was.  They knew so, so very little about the saiyajin species.  It was beginning to dawn on Kiku that maybe that was a mistake.

“Hey, when the Dragon Balls come back, do you think I could wish my tail back?” Alfred asked suddenly.  Kiku’s alarm grew.

“Is that truly a priority?” Kiku asked.  “You know it is better to save them in case we need to heal the earth again from another attack.  Not to mention, you turn into a giant rampaging ape whenever it’s full moon.”

Alfred spluttered.  “Y-yeah, but Arthur still has his tail!”

“Arthur-san lives in the woods.  He is also still in control of himself when he turns.  You live in the middle of the city.  Here.  With us.”

“I-I could go to the woods too...” Alfred said, growing sullen.

“With Arthur-san?  When you’re out of your mind and he’s not.  Alfred-san, that is not a very good idea.”  Alfred was definitely pouting again.  Kiku turned his tone much more gentle when he spoke again, “Alfred-san?  What is this all about?  Are you trying to become more saiyajin?  I understand if... if you want to know more about your heritage.”

Alfred quickly shook his head.  “No, nothing like that,” he assured his friend urgently.  “You know I’m an earthling, through and through.  I don’t need to know more about them.  They sound like a bunch of assholes anyway.”

“Then...” Kiku said slowly, “are you trying to get closer to Arthur-san?”

At this, he knew he must have hit the nail right on the head as Alfred suddenly blanched and then turned flustered and guilty.  “W-what?!  No!” he cried out.  “Why would you think something like that!  I don’t need to get closer to that royal pain in the ass!”

Kiku didn’t believe him for a second.  However, Alfred’s eyes and hair were beginning to flicker like candlelight, which was a dangerous sign that he was quite upset and about to ascend.  This must be a great source of agitation, since Alfred was normally so... not mellow, but untroubled and cheerful.  “It’s alright, Alfred-san.  I believe you,” Kiku lied, holding up a placating hand.  He patted Alfred on the arm.  “I know you.  You’re not very thoughtful and charge ahead to do what you want to.”

“Yeah... I guess so,” Alfred responded, rubbing a hand awkwardly over his arm.  The flickering was gone, but the fighter still sounded moody and despondent.

Kiku studied his long-time friend.  They had been together ever since he and Buruma discovered the strange little monkey boy out in the middle of the woods.  They had been through so much together and he trusted Alfred with his life.  Maybe he was being unfair. Arthur had been here for years and it hadn’t affected Alfred at all until now.  He should put a little more trust in him, even if he didn’t trust Arthur at all.  Letting out a sigh, he said, “Well, I’ll speak to the others about it.  You do deserve a wish or two.”

Alfred’s eyes lit up, not with ascension but with delight, and he squeezed Kiku in a bone-breaking hug.  “Oh thank you!  Thank you!”

“Y-yes, Alfred-san.  Please let me go,” Kiku gasped.  The saiyajin did so immediately, putting Kiku back on his feet and smoothing out the wrinkles of his labcoat.  Kiku took a breath to recover and then gestured to his invention.  “Now would you like to help me with this?”

“Yes!” Alfred cheered with a woot and a fist pump into the air, before he dashed over to Kiku’s lab table to see what new project he was working on.

\---

Kuririn beamed as soon as he saw Alfred and the others approach the tiny island that he called home.  Alfred jumped out of the helicopter a hundred feet early, landing lightly on his feet and already dashing towards his old buddy.  “Kuririn!” he called out, sweeping the shorter man up into a tight hug.  “How you doing?”

“Better once you let go,” Kuririn rasped, feeling his bones creak.  He gave Alfred a good natured pat on the arm once he was released.  "So we got Pikkoro here too, and Yamcha, the whole gang.  Just like good ol' times."

"Awesome!" Alfred cheered, "well, I brought a Kiku and a Buruma.  And they brought the food," he added, nudging his friend in the ribs.  "I hope you already got a good fire going."

"Of course, I do-"  Kuririn stopped, looking past the helicopter descending.  "Um.  Is that Arthur?"

Alfred spun around, because this was news to him.  "I invited him," Buruma called loudly as she exited the pilot seat of the helicopter.  "We're celebrating saving the Earth, aren't we?  Didn't he help?  Don't worry, I brought enough food for all of you."

Arthur landed on the edge of Kuririn's island, folding his arms and saying not a word, like a silent specter.  Alfred could feel his heart quicken, so he turned his gaze away.

"Well.  This is gonna be awkward," Kuririn muttered.  Alfred nodded in agreement.

It didn’t take long for booze to make the barbeque far less awkward.  Even though Arthur remained a stony, silent presence on the outskirts of the beach, the others managed to ignore him.  Especially when Roshi started doing his belly face dance.  Flushed with merriment and drink, Alfred was in tears of laughter nearly the whole day.  By mid-afternoon, he was hanging onto Pikkoro’s arm and pleading with him, “Oh come on, please~?  Pretty please~?”  The stoic namekku-seijin glared - not unlike the way that Arthur did.  “Just one little spar.  Come on~”

“Alfred, you are in no state for this,” Pikkoro growled, looking like he wanted to amputate his own arm to get the saiyajin off of him.

“All the better!  I won’t automatically beat you!” Alfred exclaimed.  Pikkoro twitched dangerously, while the others laughed.  “Okay fine~  Kuririn~!” he called out, switching targets.

“No way, bro,” Kuririn hiccuped, lounging on a beach chair.  “I know better.”  Alfred pouted, sinking down into the sand and crossing his arms and legs.  Kuririn gestured over to their resident prince.  “Why don’t you ask- Oh hey, where’d Arthur go?”  Several eyes turned over to Arthur’s haunt and many were relieved to see him gone.

“Good riddance,” Yajirobee muttered, taking a swig of his beer.  “He was being creepy just watching over there.”

“Watching?” Alfred echoed.  His thoughts were just a little bit floaty and his lips were tingling pleasantly.

“Watching  _you_ , ” Kuririn laughed, patting Alfred on the shoulder.  “You know the guy’s obsessed with you, right?”

Alfred blinked slowly.  “Yeah...?  So?  It’s okay.  I don’t mind if he watches.”  His friends gave him a strange look, which was rather confusing.  It really wasn’t hurting anything, was it?  Besides, he liked watching Arthur too...

However, Kuririn took the bottle out of his hands and said, “Alright, that’s it.  We’re switching you to water.”

\---

_Hurts.  Hurts so much.  He could barely keep himself conscious.  Explosions were booming overhead, more air-shattering and earth-shaking than the loudest fireworks.  His friends.  They needed-_

_A bright light came for him.  He couldn’t move.  Every bone in his body was broken.  Suddenly darkness.  The smell of burning flesh.  But- it wasn’t his own._

_Two burning green eyes pinned him down.  Bright hair like firelight began to dull to sandy choppy blond.  He could smell sweat and blood, the char of skin that he knew had to be crimson and cracked.  The shaking lithe body above him, trembling with unimaginable pain.  Protecting him.  Shielding him._

_Arthur looked down at him, blood dripping from his bright red lips.  “No one... defeats you... but me...”  He descended, smashing lips against his._

Alfred awoke with a gasp.  Eyes wide, he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, his body broken out into a cold sweat, his breath coming out in short pants.  

That was... that was definitely not how that happened.  Sure, Arthur saved his life in that battle months ago.  He did so many times over the years.  Alfred always figured that was ego and vanity at work, keeping his arch-rival alive to be able to deal with later.  But Arthur had just collapsed on top of him from passing out.  He didn’t-  He  _wouldn’t_ -

Alfred’s heart pounded at remembering it.  No, this was stupid.  It wasn’t from some stupid- not even sexy- sex dream.  It was all adrenaline from the memories of that battle.  Throwing off the sweat-soaked sheets, he pulled himself out of bed to go get himself a glass of water.  Doing so, his eyes strayed to the window and saw the moon hanging in the sky above.  Full moon.  He always got wonky dreams on the night of the full moon.  Yeah, he shouldn’t be worried.

Tossing back a glass of water, Alfred hung by the window, giving up any chance of sleeping.  His mind couldn’t help but go to Arthur, wondering what he was up to tonight.  Probably transformed, wreaking havoc.  But not enough to warrant Alfred’s attention.  He couldn’t completely wreck the place.  Arthur was stuck here with the rest of them, after all.

And a tiny part of him wished that Arthur would never find a way to leave.

\---

“I have changed my mind.”

Alfred stared at the other saiyajin.  He was dressed only in sweatpants, toothbrush still hanging from his mouth, while Arthur stood impatiently tapping his foot on his doorstep.  “Changed y’min’ ‘bout wha?” he asked around his toothbrush.

Arthur wrinkled his nose in disgust.  “Go and spit that out!  And who shows up at their doorstep without even a shirt on!  Go and make yourself decent, you brain-damaged fool.”  Alfred easily shrugged the insult off, seeing as being dropped on the head as a baby was the only thing that kept him from turning into a murderous psychopath.  He turned, allowing Arthur entrance into his pod-home.  

The blond prince stood where he was, arms crossed and eyes glaring.

“Fine, have i’ y’way,” Alfred muttered, leaving the door open as he went back inside to ‘make himself decent.’  He had no idea how Arthur even looked as pristine as he did.  He lived in the woods for crying out loud!  Spitting out his toothpaste and pulling on a shirt, Alfred returned to the door.  “Now, what have you changed your mind about?” he asked, forcing politeness.

“Sparring,” Arthur replied, raising his chin in haughty indignation.  As if he was appalled that Alfred dare forget.  “You asked me if I would spar with you.  I have changed my mind.”

“...That was like four months ago,” Alfred said incredulously.  “How was I supposed to know that was what you were talking about?”

“We have never engaged in idle chatter.  What else could I have possibly been talking about?” Arthur asked in return.

Well.  Point.

“And... okay, fine.  So why’d you change your mind?” Alfred asked, kind of wishing they weren’t just talking on his doorstep.  This was so awkward.  He felt like he should be offering Arthur a cup of coffee or something.

The other man mulled this in silence before he finally answered.  “It occurred to me that I would be much more equipped to defeat you if I were aware of your capabilities.  Therefore, it would be in my best interests to spar with you.  Especially since you have not given up on your habit of spying on me,” he said, giving Alfred a dark look.

Alfred sputtered at this.  Okay, so maybe he did.  Once or twice.  “I was just- That was totally accidental.  Besides, I never agreed-”

“Save your breath,” Arthur replied, holding up a hand to stop him.  “You will spar with me, making the spying a moot point.  You will make yourself available to me when I demand it.”

Alfred’s ears turned hot at the other implications that could be construed in those words.  Arthur seemed not to notice.  “Now hold on, I’m not just going to drop everything at your beck and call,” he cried indignantly.  Not to mention he that he didn’t actually want to spar with Arthur in the first place!

He wasn’t prepared when Arthur’s hand shot out and fisted the front of his t-shirt (was that why Arthur wanted him to put something on?) and wrenched him close until they were nose to nose.  His green eyes were like liquid flame, expression fiery, and Gods, the spicy smell that was coming off of him was intoxicating.  Alfred’s breath caught in his throat, wondering if Arthur even knew what kind of effect he was having on him.

Then Arthur smirked.  That beautiful, wicked, delicious smirk that he got whenever he knew he had the upper hand.  He was such a little spitfire.  Alfred prayed that the prince couldn’t somehow read his mind.

“You will come at my beck and call,” Arthur said softly, his voice cool and dangerous.  “Not just because I command it as your prince.  But because how else will you ever get the chance?”  With that, he released Alfred and let the taller man teeter back properly onto his feet.  His haughty smirk never leaving his face, he turned and headed away.

Alfred let out a faint wheeze.

\---

The first time that Arthur called him, Alfred considered ignoring it.  To be fair, it was an unknown number.  But then he realized that basically no one knew his cell phone number except a select few people.  Perks of being best friends with a billionaire.  He cast a suspicious glance over in Buruma’s direction before he picked it up.  Then a sharp tremble went down his spine when he heard the voice on the other side.   “ _Now_.”  Then Arthur hung up.

Then Alfred considered ignoring it on principle.  He stood there staring at his phone long enough for Buruma to come over and ask him if he was alright.  “M’fine,” he muttered, pocketing his cell.  He could feel Arthur’s ki, bright and flaring like a beacon, waiting for him.  He wavered for a moment longer.  Then he cursed and put two fingers to his brow, teleporting to the prince’s side.

He found himself in the middle of an open field, long grasses brushing at his legs.  Arthur sat leisurely on a large boulder, surprisingly just dressed in loose green linens.  Alfred stared at him.  He’d never seen Arthur so informal.  “Wh- what happened to your armor?”

“This is just a spar,” Arthur replied, hopping lightly onto the ground.  “It’s hardly worth ruining my best uniform and armour for the likes of you,” he said with a derisive look up and down Alfred’s person.  Even in linens, he looked a sight better than Alfred in his sweatpants and ratty Metallica t-shirt.

Alfred glared in return.  Why did he come here again?

Without another word, Arthur spread his feet apart in a graceful sweeping motion, his fingers raised like tiger claws as he slipped into an offensive stance.  He exuded confidence, grace and pride, his eyes and hair flickering with barely restrained power.  

The sight of him made Alfred’s heart pound and his throat go dry.  Ah.  This was why.  His blood racing, he quickly slipped into the  _Xingzhemen_ style that he favored most, his lips pulling into a sharp grin.  He raised two fingers and gestured Arthur to come at him.  Arthur's smirk dropped, irritation flaring.  With a growl, he came at Alfred faster than the blink of an eye and the spar fully commenced.

\---

"Ah!  That felt so good!" Alfred said as he fell back and stretched out over the grass.  His clothes were in tatters, while scratches and bruises mottled his skin.  Everything ached and it was great.

"Hnph," was all Arthur said, sipping on water as he propped himself up against a ruined boulder.  Alfred glanced over in Arthur's direction, still all smiles.  Arthur wouldn't say, but he probably was feeling pretty good too.  Hard not to when your blood and body had been on continual burn a good couple of hours.  But Arthur still didn't crack so much as a smirk, so it was hard to tell.

Feeling brave, Alfred pushed himself up and leaned closer to the prince.  "Are you feeling good too?" he asked, his grin growing sly and teasing.  That earned himself only an annoyed glance, so he pressed, "Admit it~  I make you feel good, don't I?"

This made Arthur's face turn bright red.  "Why you-!" he hissed, picking up a sizable rock to chuck at Alfred's head.  Laughing, Alfred put up a hand to protect himself.  However, the rock never came.  He looked up, only to see Arthur staring at him in bewilderment, rock still in hand.

Following the prince's gaze behind him, Alfred looked over his shoulder only to gasp.  A brown furred tail waved behind him, wagging like a dog.  "My tail!" Alfred cried out, a grin nearly splitting his face.  "Arthur, my tail's back!"  He jumped up from the ground, ready to do a little jig.

Apparently his enthusiasm was infectious, as Arthur's lips twitched into a half-smile.  "I can see that.  Now stop wiggling about.  You look ridiculous."  He let the heavy rock drop and approached curiously.  "I wonder what made it grow back all of a sudden..." he murmured, his hand hovering just inches away from Alfred's tail.

Alfred waited for Arthur to just grab it, but the prince never did.  So he sucked in a breath and gently brought his tail to Arthur's palm.  Something like an electric shock went right through him at the touch.  His heart pounded, feeling every nerve ending on fire.  All it would take was a squeeze for Arthur to render him paralyzed.  

Arthur never did.  Instead, his fingers lightly traced over the fur, feeling each individual notch of bone like a caress.  Alfred’s skin heated, a faint whimper stifled.  He didn’t know exactly what Arthur was doing, but this was way too intimate.  “A-Artie, what are you-”

“How long have you gone without a tail?” the prince asked suddenly, still doing magic with his fingers.

“S-since I was a kid,” Alfred replied.  “Why?”

Arthur glanced up, giving the taller warrior a strange look.  Then he did something, a little press, that made Alfred cry out and drop down to his knees.  “You hold your tail like a child,” he explained, all aloofness.  “Your hormones levels are unequalized.  You never went through puberty as a saiyajin.  It explains much.”  Finally, he released Alfred, allowing him to collapse backwards.  “It is imperative that you keep it for as long as possible,” Arthur said, wiping off his hands as though he had touched something greasy.  “Do not tell your so-called ‘friends’ that you have it, lest they chop it off and mutilate you again.”

“Why?” Alfred asked breathlessly.  Everything  tingled.

The prince only answered with a mysterious smile that made Alfred’s throat go dry.  Okay, he didn’t know what it meant, but he was fairly sure he wanted to find out.  His eyes went to the tail securely wrapped around Arthur’s slim waist.  “Can I touch your tail, then?”

The smile instantly dropped and Arthur chucked a rock at him.

\---

Kiku didn't approve, always giving a disappointed sigh whenever Alfred got the call.  Alfred didn't even answer the phone anymore.  He simply left.  

\---

Alfred lay in the grass, relaxing after another long spar, feeling achy and sweaty.  He let his tail slink out from underneath his shirt, dutifully kept secret as advised.  His eyes swept over to other saiyajin’s back, watching those strong but slender shoulders roll with stiffness.  His tail twitched as he pulled himself up to a sit.  “Hurts?” he asked, putting a hand to Arthur’s back.

The prince went as stiff as a board.  He didn’t move, not even to look back.  Not discouraged, Alfred leaned in, his fingers pressing into the shoulders to try and find the knots bothering the prince.  “What are you doing?” Arthur finally croaked.

“Massage,” Alfred replied.  “It’s good for you after training.  Roshi made Kuririn and I learn how.”  Of course, Roshi made them give him foot massages too, but the benefits were still real.  Arthur jerked, as if to move away, but Alfred’s hands kept him in place.  “Shh, relax.”

“You will unhand me, you hormone-addled-” the prince growled, when his voice suddenly hitched when Alfred pressed into a knot.

“Arthur, stay still,” the younger warrior murmured, working into the prince’s back with forceful attention.  All his care was put into removing any knots, to make Arthur feel so much better.  He’d appreciate it after Alfred was done.  Besides, something drew Alfred to that scarred back, making him want to touch, to feel.  He leaned in closer, intoxicated by the smell of sweat and heat.  He pressed his nose to the back of Arthur’s neck and just breathed in.  But then he noticed that something was very wrong.

Arthur was terrifyingly still and silent.

Only then did Alfred realize just how intrusive he’d been.  Horrified, he pulled back.  “Gods, I’m sorry!” he cried, his whole body heating with mortification.  “I wasn’t- I didn’t-  I’m sorry!”

The prince said not a word.  He didn’t even look back.  He simply got up to his feet and departed, leaving Alfred feeling horrible and sick and alone.

\---

Alfred was terrified that Arthur wouldn’t call again after that incident.  Honestly, he wouldn’t blame Arthur at all.  Not after being all forceful and creepy and  ugh !  What had gotten into him!  His stomach roiled from worry, even turning away food.

When his phone rang with a familiar ringtone two days later, he jumped in his seat and his heart leapt even higher.  Hands shaking, he answered it.  “H-hello?”

There was a pause.  “ _You will come now._ ”

“W-wait!” Alfred called out, before Arthur could hang up.  “Um, about before.  I’m sorry.  I don’t know what came over me.  But I promise it will never, ever,  _ever_ happen again.”

There was another long pause.  Then the prince’s voice came through like a cool, clear note.  “ _See that it doesn’t._ ”  Then he hung up.

Nothing more was said of the incident.

\---

Alfred  _knew_ he would get it bad.  He'd known it even when he went to Arthur's side to spar for the first time.  Despite keeping to his promise, his need to be close to Arthur only grew.  Fighting with Arthur was like a drug.  The blood and sweat, the thrill and challenge, heavy breaths and hard touches.  He couldn't get enough of it.

Arthur must have known this from the start.  Which is why he was never surprised that Alfred always came when he called, like a dog begging for a bone.  Or maybe he was just a spoiled ass that always got his way and now Alfred was finally conforming to his expectations.  It shamed Alfred just how eager he was to come to Arthur's side, even if he was always the winner of their bouts.  Arthur somehow didn't mind so much.  He got a bit tetchy sometimes, but Alfred suspected that he just reveled in the power he held over his last living subject.

It was really pathetic.

So one day after three months of this, Alfred decided that he'd turn the tables.  He just got up and decided he was going to find Arthur and demand a spar.  On his own time.  Really, he didn't know why he didn't think of it sooner.  Problem was he wasn't quite sure where Arthur resided most of the time.  Basically, the most anyone knew was just that he 'lived in the woods,' (which could be anywhere,) having a pretty strong aversion to humans in general.  Plus Alfred was pretty sure he was heavy into the mysticism stuff.

The other problem was that Arthur only let his ki flare whenever he was waiting for Alfred to show up or when he trained on his own.  So he was going to have to try to find Arthur the old fashioned way. Keeping low and flying all over the place until he found a trace of Arthur's ki signature.  Awesome.

It took him about five days.

After triangulating where Arthur  _might_ be based on all their sparring locations (all over the world), Alfred decided to just screw it and circumnavigate the Earth a few times to see where Arthur might have holed himself up.

The very  last  place he expected it was some lonely little seaside cottage on England's coast.

Still, when Arthur saw him on his front step and choked on his tea, it was totally worth it.  "What are you doing here!?" he demanded, glaring at the taller saiyajin with a fire that could melt steel.  

"Came to spar," Alfred replied cheerfully, pushing his way past the prince and into his abode.  "Is this where you've been staying this whole time?  It's actually kind of nice."  It was actually.  Cozy and lived in, even with the spartan furnishings.  Was that Arthur's uniform and a sewing kit on that reading chair?  And scones and tea on that little table by the fireplace?

Arthur tried unsuccessfully to shove Alfred back out the door.  "You are not welcome here!" he hissed.  "And I most certainly did not call you to spar!  Now get out and leave me be!"

Alfred pouted.  "That's not fair.  You know where I live.  Don't tell me you’re planning to just up and move as soon as I leave here."  After a telling moment of silence, Alfred gaped at him.  "Wait, you  are, aren't you.  Isn't that kind of an overreaction?"  

"What I do and where I live is no business of yours," Arthur replied, absolutely livid.  His fists were trembling at his sides.  "What  _right_ did you have to just barge in here and spoil my peace and quiet-"

"Artie, you're being stupid," Alfred cried out in exasperation.

" _Prince Arthur!_ " the older man hissed, ready to spit acid.

Alfred only gave him a pained look, feeling his stomach sinking at the expression of utter loathing on the other man's face.  "Do you really hate me that much?  I thought after years of being here, all those months sparring...  Haven't we gotten past this yet?"

Arthur seethed, his green eyes burning brighter.  "I will never get  past it.  That some common born scum should always best me.  That the same common born would show not the slightest inclination towards showing me the deference I deserve.  That this common born, who is the most powerful of our species, should spit on his heritage, his people, his  _blood_ , is more than I can bear."  He kicked open his own door, knocking it off his hinges.  "Now.   _Get out_. "

Unable to come up with a reply, Alfred could only stare wide eyed at him.  Then without a word, without looking Arthur in the eye, he left to go back home.

Arthur vacated that cottage within the week.  And Alfred did not receive another call from him again.

\---

"Alfred-san, the Dragon Balls are ready," Kiku told him one day.  The pair of them were playing video games in the common room.  Little Big Planet.  It was the only time they were on a level playing field, since Alfred's avatar could never react faster than the console processor.

"Oh?" Alfred asked disinterestedly.

"Yes.  You wanted to use them, right?  To get your tail back?" Kiku pressed.  Ever since Arthur had stopped calling Alfred at all hours of the day and night to spar, his friend had become utterly lost and despondent.  Almost depressed.  Kiku hated seeing him like that.  More than he hated the idea of Alfred and Arthur becoming thick as thieves.  Now Alfred just moped around like he’d been dumped.

Alfred stayed moodily silent.  So Kiku tried again.  “We should gather the Dragon Balls regardless.  It wouldn’t do to have them fall into the wrong hands.”

“Maybe we should just give them to Arthur,” the saiyajin muttered darkly.  “Let him finally wish for immortality so that asshole can be alone for the rest of eternity.”

“Um...” Kiku muttered, not really sure how to reply.  He doubted Arthur would.  He’d had opportunity a few times.  Now, however, he was a little worried what Arthur  _would_ wish for after his and Alfred’s falling out.

“Oh- Or, maybe, we could just wish that he would stop being such a pain in the ass,” Alfred continued, punching the controller buttons a little too forcefully.  The thing was starting to creak in his hands.  After a few frustrating seconds of being too slow for his liking, he tossed the controller aside and declared, “I’m done.  Do what you want.”  Kiku was pretty sure that he wasn’t talking about the game.

Alfred got up and was about to leave the common room to head to his own house, when he bumped into Buruma coming in.  “Oh, there you are,” she said, smiling at her favorite saiyajin.  “I was wondering if you could do a favor for me.”

Letting out a sigh, Alfred rubbed his hand over his face and then turned a tired smile on his friend.  “Sure, what’s up?”

She held out a small box in her hands, all Capsule Corps products.  “Could you find Arthur and give him these?  They’re supplies for him.”

The smile dropped instantly when the prince was mentioned.  Alfred stared at the box, even as he took it.  “Supplies?” he asked numbly.  “What for?”

“Food, clothing, lightbulbs, for living!  All that sort of thing.  Do you really think he goes round to the supermarket to pick it all up himself?” Buruma asked in exasperation.

“Wh-what?  No,” Alfred stammered.  To be honest, he had no idea how Arthur managed day to day.  He hadn’t put that much thought into it.  Though now he didn’t know why he didn’t think of it.  The idea of Arthur working for a living seemed comical to him.  “Wait a sec.  How long have you been sending him supplies?”

“Ever since he helped save the world the first time,” Buruma laughed, patting Alfred affectionately on the cheek.  “I tend to do that for people who help save the Earth,” she added, giving Alfred a keen look, which made him blush.  “Poor guy’s all alone here, with no knowledge of how this planet works, no home to go back to and no friends to speak of.  It’s the least I could do to help him out.”

Alfred’s stomach churned guiltily, but he decided to ignore it.  “How come he takes it?  Isn’t it just charity?”  Surely, Arthur was too proud to be taking handouts.  He  _wouldn’t_.

At this, Buruma’s expression turned sly.  “Well, maybe he doesn’t mind it coming from me,” she giggled.  “I’ve always thought that he might have a sweet spot for me.”

Alfred stared at her, a surge of wild jealousy rearing its ugly head, making his heart pound and his vision go red.  No way.  That was-  _not possible_.  How could Arthur, the most xenophobic person he had ever known, possibly have any kind of feelings for Buruma?  No offense to her, but she was  _human_ .  Alfred  _wasn’t_ human.  In fact, Arthur had pretty much tossed him out, stopped speaking to him, because he wasn’t saiyajin enough.  Or something.  Why would Arthur pass him over for a  _human woman_ ?

“Alfred-san,” someone called out, pulling him out of his jealous haze.  Kiku looked worriedly at him.  “Alfred-san, you’re glowing.”

Alfred glanced in the mirror and saw that he had in fact ascended, his golden hair flickering like firelight and his blue eyes like two torches.  The capsules had cracked within his fingers.  He paled.  “I gotta go,” he said quickly, dropping the ruined cartridges back into Buruma’s hands and running for the hills.

Kiku turned to stare at Buruma.  “What did you tell him that for?” he asked incredulously.

Buruma gave Kiku a smile.  “He needed a little nudging.  I was getting a little tired of him moping around like a lovesick puppy.  I just wanted him to  do something.”

Really, that woman was mad sometimes.  A mad genius, yes, but definitely mad.  Kiku turned his worried gaze over to the window.  “I am just concerned about what he will do...”

\---

Everything ached.  From muscle to sinew to bone, his body throbbed for want of rest, put through the paces again and again over the lonely red landscape.  Sweat and dust covered his skin, coating his choppy hair.  His clothes were ripped, needing mending.  Not now, though.  He could barely make it back to his new abode, hands too shaky to pick up a needle and thread.

Stumbling inside, he peeled off his dirty clothes and tossed them to the floor, kicking them aside.  There was a basin of water by the door, so he washed off his face and hands of the red grime, before he fumbled off and collapsed into bed.  He should, by rights, just fall quickly to sleep, but it seemed that his body ached too brutally even for that.  So he lay awake in a foggy haze, his thoughts drifting into daydreams.  

Not unexpectedly, his mind wandered to a certain blue-eyed blond.  He was always on his mind in some fashion or other.  Yet when he was this tired, his mental faculties shot, he lusted.  His pride allowed it sometimes, to let him long to touch that perfect specimen, to feel pure power rippling underneath his skin, to feel the heat of him up against his own body.  It was a weakness he indulged in rarely and only when he could no longer keep up his guard against his own heart.

His body yearned to have him here.  Delicious images played behind his eyes, imagining this warrior on knees before him, dressed in saiyajin blue, submitting to him.  So strong and so beautiful, arching his neck back to bare his unclaimed skin.  His blue eyes pleaded for him, wanting him, needing him.   “ _My Prince..._ ” he whispered, trembling when fingers slid along his jaw.   “ _Please_...”

“Mine...” he purred, wrapping himself up in this dream.  He fell into slumber slowly, brought to restive dreams by familiar fantasies.  The only ones that his pride would ever allow.  

\---

Arthur was awoken later, briefly, by the sound of the sky cracking open with thunder and lightning.  A strange sight indeed this time of year in Australia.  However, he only glanced out at the churning gray skies for but a moment before he turned away and back into his sleep.

\---

It had taken days to work up the nerve to confront him.  Once he found him, that is.

Yet Alfred finally found himself on Arthur’s new doorstep, his stomach flip-flopping as he wrung his wrists.  The last time he had done this, it had not gone well at all.  Nonetheless, fortune favored the bold, so he raised a hand to-  No, not that.  No knocking.  He pushed open the door.

He knew Arthur was in here.  He’d listened for him, waited, stalked.  The last thing he wanted to do was catch Arthur in an embarrassing position.  As it was, Arthur was in the kitchen when the prince whipped around in alarm as his front door was breached.  His eyes narrowed dangerously when he saw who it was.  That is until he saw Alfred fully step in.

It was a gratifying sight to see the prince’s jaw go slack with shock.  Alfred tried to keep his tail as still as possible to keep from betraying his nervousness, but he’d never been very good at hiding his emotions.  Yet he managed not to fidget with the sleeves of the long gold and royal blue robe worn over saiyajin armor.  Arthur didn’t need to know how unsure of himself he was right then.

“Do you like it?” Alfred asked, spreading out his arms to show himself off.  Arthur was still staring, though his mouth was no longer catching flies.  The prince approached slowly, like a tiger treading up to crocodile infested waters.

“What is this?” Arthur asked quietly, within arm’s reach of the taller warrior.  The look in his eyes was unreadable, though Alfred guessed that he saw suspicion there.  His tail flitted faster, his anxiety doubling.

“You told me that you couldn’t bear that I disrespected y- our people,” the younger saiyajin replied softly.  “So I... I made a wish.  One that no one else needs to know about.  They can just assume that I’ve wished my tail back.  It can just be our secret.”

“What was the wish...?” the prince asked, his sharp green eyes never leaving Alfred’s face.

Alfred gave him a shy smile.  “We’re not even called saiyajin, are we?  That’s just the name that the Kold Empire forced on us when we were first conquered.  We’re called Beornas.  Warriors.  We used to have great city-states with so many different cultures and languages and foods and music.  Gods, Arthur, it was beautiful.”

Arthur stared, his eyes growing wide and suddenly so openly vulnerable.  Alfred didn’t press him, continuing on.  “Landfruma Gærs, born to Cynig Gærs, in the city-state Hēafodstōl.  People celebrated for weeks when you were born.  You were prophesied to be the savior of the Beornas.”

“Instead I failed them,” Arthur whispered, trembling.  “Our homeworld was destroyed.”

“You were only a child.  And ransomed away,” Alfred replied softly, putting a hand to Arthur’s bicep and squeezing gently.  “Besides, you did save them in a way.  You’re here, aren’t you?  Safe and keeping their memory alive.  If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made that wish, to know all that I could about the saiya- the Beornas.  Arthur, I was so wrong for trying to distance myself from them.  Will you forgive me?” he asked quietly, drawing closer to the prince.

Arthur shuddered and closed his eyes.  “Say something to me.  In our old tongue.”

Smiling, Alfred obliged him.  He closed his own eyes and began to softly intone one of the tragic epic poems of their people, “ _Oft ic sceolde ana uhtna gehwylce mine ceare cwiþan.  Nis nu cwicra nan þe ic him modsefan minne durre sweotule asecgan.  Ic to soþe wat þæt biþ in eorle-_ ”  He didn’t have a chance to speak more, as lips suddenly cut off his words.  He gasped, but that only gave Arthur a chance to probe his mouth with much more demand.

Alfred groaned, his whole body heating up like a furnace.  The touch, the smell, now the taste - how long had he been yearning for this, far at the back of his mind where his instincts still spoke true.  This just felt so  right.

“ _Gærs, bidde_ ,” he pleaded, knowing their tongue would just rile the prince more.  He was right, the single plea letting a wave of lust roll off of Arthur like a heady perfume.  He was shoved over onto the chair, the only furniture in the little sitting room.  After this, Alfred was going to convince Arthur to move in with him at Capsule Corps.  He’d let the prince do whatever the hell he wanted with the place.  Right now though, Arthur suddenly had his hand on his tail again and was stroking it with enough skill to turn him completely into jelly.  “ _Unf_ , Gods, Arthur- where did you learn to do this?” he asked, his mind veering dangerously to one-tracked thoughts.

Arthur smirked at him.  “I was an adolescent once too.  Now shush,” he said, his fingers tugging at the waistband of Alfred’s leggings.

The chair did not survive the bout.

\---

Arthur’s Official Prince-Consort was a very, very happy man.  His tail wagged happily as he practically bounced his way over to Capsule Corps proper to meet his friends for breakfast.  “Good morning!” he called out loudly as he entered the kitchen from the patio, making Kiku and Buruma jump in their seats.

Kiku turned back and gave his friend a shaky smile.  “You are very cheerful this morning, Alfred-san.”

“Oh, he should be,” Buruma grinned impishly.  “From the sounds coming from his house last night.  I’m surprised you’re still walking straight,” she added slyly.

Alfred blushed right up to the roots of his hair.  “Buruma, jeez!” he flustered, coming over to the fridge to get himself two-dozen eggs.  He even got as far as turning the stove on, when he heard a loud gasp and a shrilling screech that only made him grin wider:

“Oh my God,  _YOU HAVE A RING!_ ”

When Alfred returned to his house with some breakfast for his prince, he wasn’t at all surprised to see Arthur still lounging in bed.  As he suspected, Arthur took to luxury and being spoiled very well indeed.  Alfred didn’t mind at all though, since the sight of his partner’s naked sleeping form draped only in a thin bedsheet was still enough to make his blood heat delightfully.  Setting the tray aside, he crawled back into bed and spooned against Arthur’s back, arm draped around his lover.  Arthur’s skin was all mottled from a different type of bout than sparring, so Alfred pressed kisses to each and every little mark.  They still sparred of course.  Frequently.  Especially when their spars tended to end in some very passionate lovemaking.

Arthur was a surprising romantic.  And a very possessive lover.  His friends were still getting used to the fact that Arthur would simply come by and suddenly kiss Alfred passionately while in the middle of conversation.  Alfred could only shrug helplessly and grin: “It’s a saiyajin thing.”  

He loved every minute of it.

Arthur stirred in his arms, shifting only slightly when he realized he was being held to make himself more comfortable.  “That woman shrieks like a banshee,” he groused, eyes still closed to stave the sunlight.

Alfred laughed.  “Heard that did you?  Well, she’s very excited.  She wants to plan the wedding and everything.”

“It’s not a  _wedding_ , ” Arthur growled, which made Alfred smile affectionately.

“I know, I know.  I’ll go over all the details with her,” he promised, kissing the back of Arthur’s neck.  He’d tell Buruma that Arthur ordered it that way.  Sometimes Arthur got a little prickly if people suspected Alfred knew more about the Beornas than he did.  His friends also didn’t understand that Alfred liked going with saiyajin traditions as well.  It was special, this shared culture between them.  Sure, he’d always think of himself as an Earthling.  But Arthur and his heritage and history brought him a sense of belonging that he had never thought possible - that he never even knew he missed.

“Hey,” he said softly, murmuring against Arthur’s neck, “ _Iċ lufie þē.._. ”  Alfred didn’t have to see the prince’s face to feel the smile in return.

“I love you too,  _leof_ ...”

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  \---  
> 
> 
>  
> 
>   
>  Additional A/N:  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> The old tongue is actually Old English, while most Earth stuff is in Japanese (because that's how I watched the show).  Here's some Old English translations for the purposes of silliness and puns.
> 
>   * Landfruma Gærs - Prince Vegetable
>   * Cynig Gærs - King Vegetable
>   * Hēafodstōl - Capital City
>   * bidde - Please
> 

> 
>   
>    
>  The poem recited is called [The Wanderer](http://www.anglo-saxons.net/hwaet/?do=get&type=text&id=wdr).  
>   
>    
> 


End file.
